


Heir of the Sun

by snarkwhal



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, No Beta We Die Like Glen, Slow Burn, grishaverse au, im literally just chucking three houses into shadow and bone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28251336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkwhal/pseuds/snarkwhal
Summary: When three students of the Second army prepare to make a trip across the Shadow Fold, they expect this morning to be their last. Praying to the saints, they say goodbye to the sun. What they don't expect is to find her in a mercenary girl from the docks. What she doesn't expect is to get whisked away to the capital, rumors of her holy power creeping over the horizon.Or the Grishaverse AU that I wrote for myself, and hopefully makes sense even if you haven't read any Leigh Bardugo books.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Kudos: 12





	1. Lost in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, this whole AU started because _Edge of Dawn_ and all the light motifs in the game made me think of _The Grisha Trilogy_ by Leigh Bardugo. My brain was like "Hey since Byleth is the goddess and all, why don't we just take her and put her in the Grishaverse as a sun summoner like Alina?". Then I realized there was a lot of things from the plot of _Shadow and Bone_ that fit well with _Three Houses_ , and I ended up here.
> 
> All that said, even if you haven't read any of the books in the Grishaverse, I hope you can still read and enjoy this. If anything's confusing, just comment and I'll try clearing it up. Also, while this fic pretty much follows the plot of the game, certain aspects overlap with tgt, so be wary of that in case you want to read the books or watch the Netflix adaptation without any spoilers. I might've tweaked a few things to better fit FE, too. Honestly, I contemplated just setting this in Fodlan and just adding the grisha, but leaving it in the actual Grishaverse just worked better.
> 
> Anyway, hope you like it!

Byleth could smell the metallic tang of blood before she saw it.

Flames burst around her, dancing in and out of the darkness as claws tore at flesh and leathery wings swooped in and out of her vision. She crawled through the grey sand, hoping to stay out of the creatures’ reach until she found a way out of the darkness. Every so often she caught glimpses of arms arching through the air in time with the flames, fists clenching as one man stole the air out of another’s lungs, someone trying to run as the shadow monsters grabbed their limbs and lifted them into the air. Byleth didn’t know who was fighting who, or why, but when she heard the angry shrieking directly above her, she didn’t care.

Without another second’s thought she jumped up, planting her feet as she readied herself for the sting of claws and gnashing teeth. She held her hands out, searching for the thrum of power she’d felt once before. It didn’t come. She briefly registered the _squelch_ of her boots in wet, blood-soaked sand before a figure dived for her. In another burst of firelight, she saw the shape of something she swore could’ve been human once, had it not been for its leathery skin and bat-like wings.

Byleth dimly remembered a book she’d found in a market when she was ten. It had been a guide book of sorts, but as she flitted past the vibrant illustrations of bright blue shores and verdant valleys, she’d landed on a picture of a monster gnawing on a severed foot. _Volcra_ was written above it. She’d scrutinized its glassy eyes until her father had shut the book and led her away. She’d read that they were supposed to be blind since they’d never seen the light of day, but maybe they’d found her from her thumping heart and the scent of her blood alone. Either way, it was those same glassy eyes that flashed in front of her before the world went dark.

Byleth dropped to the ground again. Maybe, if she was quiet enough, it would never find her. She waited for her arm to be torn from its socket, to be dragged away by her ankles, but the volcra never came. As another burst of flame lit up a few feet away, she saw its new prey. 

Behind her a bearded man grappled with it, its jaws set on ripping his throat out. Before it could take a bite, the man kicked its chest, sending the volcra skittering back. It plunged for him again, and he slashed an arm through the air. Byleth expected to see it collapse like the other men around her, clutching at its heart or suffocating as it died. Instead, a sliver of shadow shot out and sliced it clean through the torso, the two halves of the volcra dropping with a sickening _thud_. The gush of black blood and guts darkened the sand at the man’s feet, and he had a second to look over the carnage before he was knocked to the ground.

A woman stood above him, her mint hair like a beacon in the flickering firelight. As he made a move to stand, she sliced both of her hands through the air and in the din Byleth heard the crunch of breaking bones. He couldn’t even scream. The woman clenched a fist, and Byleth heard the weak wheeze of his lungs as they tried to fight for breath against her invisible iron grip.

“Tell me, Nemesis,” the woman screamed, unconcerned about the volcra, “Do you recall the valley that used to be here?”

The woman unclenched her fist. Nemesis coughed, and she made another wild gesture with her hand. He continued to cough violently, blood gurgling up his throat with every ragged breath.

“You took everything from me!”

In the distance Byleth barely registered the sound of a volcra feasting on another one of its victims as the woman sobbed in front of her, each of her furious cries punctuated by Nemesis’ dying breath. The blood he spat out mixed with the puddle of black from the volcra he’d dismembered earlier, specks of crimson disappearing in the inky liquid. As the light flickered in and out, his body convulsed. With one last cry, the woman brought her hand down and Nemesis went still. In another burst of flame Byleth caught a glimpse of the woman’s mint eyes, rage dissipating as tears streamed down her face and she stared into the non-existent horizon.

Men and women continued to fight around them, the volcra diving in and out to claim a screaming victim or snatch a corpse, but the two remained isolated from the chaos. From where Byleth lay she’d thought she heard the woman whispering. Mother? Had she said mother? Byleth hardly had time to wonder before she caught a glimpse of mint eyes again, and a flash of white light seared through her vision.


	2. The Shadow Fold

Byleth’s heart pounded, matching her frantic kicking as she tried to stand. The sand was closing in on her, her legs tangling as she struggled to right herself. She needed to get up and out before the volcra found her or she was dragged into the fighting. She could hold her own surely, but for how long? She didn’t know and it was too dark. How was she supposed to fight when she was practically blind?

Someone grabbed her arm and she had to hold back a scream before she alerted any of the volcra. She shot up, trying to wrench herself out of their grip, but they took hold of her shoulders. Their grip tightened and they shook her, her terror dissipating as a tiny light flickered on beside her and a familiar voice spoke.

“Jeez, kid, you almost knocked my teeth out.”

Byleth’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and she found herself in bed, her legs tangled up in the sheets, her father staring down at her. In the little light coming from a single candle, Byleth could see the shadows deepen the creases on his forehead, emphasizing his furrowed brow. She glanced at the window to her left. The stars had disappeared and she could see the barest hint of blue beginning to peek over the horizon.

“Sorry, slept in I guess,” she said, shrugging.

“Wouldn’t call that sleeping in. Same nightmare again?”

Byleth nodded. She’d had the same nightmare sporadically since the first time they’d tried to cross Ravka. She was always trapped by the Fold, dropping bodies and winged monsters flashing in and out of her vision, her body unable to do anything except watch. Yet, tonight had been different. It had never been so vivid. She could still feel smoke sting her eyes and iron flood the air as waves of blood splashed onto the once colourless sand around her.

“You know, you don’t have to go.”

Byleth’s eyes darted back to her father, “What?”

“You don’t need to go back to the Fold, kid. We’re already heading in with the Second Army, and they’re solid defense as is. That’s what they’re here for anyway, so you can just stay here in the inn till we get back.”

He had to be dreaming himself if he thought she was letting him leave alone. 

“Dad, no,” Byleth said as she grabbed her boots, “Second Army or not, you need me there. It was just a nightmare alright? I’ll be fine.”

He glanced down at her hands just as she did. They were empty and all she could do was wipe her sweaty palms on her pants. Byleth picked up a pair of Zemeni revolvers he’d bought her when she was fourteen. She knew that if they encountered any volcra, she could do little more than he could to fight them off. She counted and recounted her bullets. Unfortunately, the only other option she had to defend them wasn’t as reliable.

Her father nodded, “Alright, I’ll meet you outside in ten.”

She hummed in acknowledgement as the door clicked shut behind him. He’d left the candle on the nightstand, its little flame burning brightly as if to comfort her as shadows danced around it.

**

As the sun rose, light shone off the blue and white domes of Novokribirsk’s church. Vendors set themselves up along the street and square before it, a few tables displaying bits of bone. There were the fingers of Saint Cethleann dangling from necklaces, meant to keep the wearer in good health. Saint Seiros’ teeth fashioned into rings or beaded onto bracelets sat alongside them, promising strength to those who bought them. Byleth knew they were just animal bones at best, and violated graves at worst. Yet, as she stared at a small statue of Saint Sothis, golden rays carved and painted into a halo around her head, she hoped that a piece of those remains were hers.

Byleth turned away from the church and made her way to the dry docks. She picked at her sleeves, more and more loose threads falling from her fingertips as she got closer. It was almost summer; she wouldn’t need the old coat soon anyway. As she arrived at the end of town, a wall of darkness began to loom over her. Byleth wrapped her coat tighter around herself.

No matter what they called it, the Shadow Fold or the Unsee, no name in a book could compare to the impenetrable swath of shadow that stood ahead. It was always just a dark slash on maps of the kingdom, but Byleth knew it stretched for miles, having left half the country landlocked for centuries. She’d never seen East Ravka, and she wondered if the trip would be worth it. More importantly, if the pay would be worth the trip there and back.

Soldiers and dock workers bustled around her. Men and women hauled crates labelled with different things from sugar to timber on to skiffs, their flat structures equipped to sail the grey sand rather than the open waves of the True Sea. Members of the First Army boarded, weapons strapped to their dull green uniforms. Byleth spotted her father a few docks down, preparing their mercenary group for the trip.

Soldiers of the Second Army moved between all the skiffs, their coats standing out like bright banners in the crowd. Crimson, navy blue, and violet signaled which order of the grisha each belonged to, the intricately embroidered cuffs and hems further indicating what abilities they possessed. Byleth could hardly remember which colour meant what. The only experience she’d had with grisha were with the occasional job and those in their small mercenary group who’d fled other countries and avoided Ravkan conscription.

Sitting by the fire, her father making the flames dance with his inferni abilities, Byleth had asked him why he hadn’t joined the famed magical army.

“Because what has Ravka ever done for us?”, he’d replied and she’d gotten the feeling that he was referring to more than just the two of them.

She looked at him now, doubt crossing his face as a trio of grisha stood before him. As Byleth got closer, she quickly realized why. 

They were all fairly young, probably no older than she was. A girl stood in front of her father, platinum hair a stark contrast to her red and black coat. Two boys stood next to her, a brunette dressed in purple trimmed with red, and a blonde clad in blue and silver. Byleth knew that the army recruited young, but she hadn’t thought teenagers would be sent onto the Fold. Let alone that they’d made it across once before. Then again, she was ten when she’d barely survived her first and last trip.

Her father turned to her, “Kid, meet some of the grisha on our skiff.”

The trio nodded to her and introduced themselves, and she did the same. The boy in purple, Claude, inclined his head, watching her with a hint of curiosity. Edelgard held her head high as if she were marching in a parade and not into near certain doom, her gaze trained ahead, challenging the darkness before her. Dimitri smiled at Byleth, his eyes reminding her of the sky rather than the deep blue of his coat. She took a quick glance at the wide horizon behind her. In a few minutes she would have to say goodbye to that same blue.

“So, I take it that this isn’t your first time crossing the Fold?” Edelgard said, breaking Byleth’s thoughts.

“Byleth cocked her head to the side, prompting Edelgard to continue.

“You and your father just carry the air of people who’ve faced it before. And I don’t understand why anyone not in the army would choose to cross, unless they’ve had prior experience.”

“Or they’re desperate,” Claude interjected.

“Well, we’ve crossed once before,” Byleth replied, “and call us insane or desperate but we have a job. Some merchants in Os Kervo aren’t getting any less paranoid about their goods.”

Edelgard crossed her arms, her gaze shifting to look over the troops, “I guess its not enough that the Second Army is already here.”

Dimitri shot her a look, “ _Both_ the King’s armies are here, but it couldn’t hurt to have more experienced fighters on board as well.”

As if a few mercenaries would make a difference against a hoard of volcra. Maybe, they were desperate.

Claude nodded, “Ah, merchers can’t get their head out of their stocks. But why _don’t_ you just leave it to the army?”

Byleth had asked herself that for the better part of an hour. They could just pretend to cross and return to Os Kervo in a few days time. It wasn’t like they’d ever taken some oath of honesty. Saints, their work in Ketterdam was proof enough. What were they hoping would happen this time around? 

Her thoughts travelled back to flames burning in the shadows, her father trying to scare volcra away with the limited light as one swooped down. She cried, some of their comrades fighting as best they could as bursts of sun started coming in fits and starts. It hadn’t been enough to get them fully across, and they’d had to return, their numbers thinned significantly. She’d held onto her father for dear life, whatever desperate thing inside her giving them one final push back to the docks. He told her she should’ve stayed in Novokribirsk, but what would’ve happened if she had?

She glanced at her hands again, pushing at the memory. Nothing came.

“Well, I guess it’s like you say in Kerch,” Dimitri said, shaking his head, “the deal is the deal.”

He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but the grim reminder of darkness stretched out before them and filled the air. Byleth could feel it pressing down on her lungs as she tried to exhale. She stared into the Fold, listening to its silence, hoping that it remained that way the whole trip.

“You’re all a bit young to cross, aren’t you?” she spoke up.

“We’re graduating from the Little Palace soon,” Edelgard responded, “And the First Army has soldiers just as young as we are.”

“As young as sixteen,” Dimitri added, his eyes turning to ice.

“Her highness would know…” Claude said, glancing between the two.

Before Byleth could ask what he’d meant, they were called to board the skiff. She didn’t think it was possible for the weight in the air to get any heavier, but her mind flashed back to the grisha heartrenders in her dream. It was like an invisible grip had taken hold of her, threatening to crush her lungs as she walked up. She saw her companions straighten, squaring their shoulders as they began to board. Byleth took her spot at her father’s side, giving his hand a squeeze. She felt a familiar soft hum of energy as he squeezed back and let go, his hand returning to the flint in his pocket and the gun at his hip. She let out a small breath, her father’s presence reminding her of the candle’s tiny defiant flame. 

Byleth looked over the troops around her. Soldiers with rifles and crossbows at the ready stood by the rails. Claude stood with a small group in purple at the mast. A few feet away stood Edelgard, a dark-haired boy in the same red and black coat moving to stand at her side, several grisha and marksmen taking their place around her. Dock workers pushed the skiff and grisha squallers held their arms out as they filled the sails with wind and continued to push it forward, Dimitri among them.

Byleth refused to blink. She didn’t want to miss the remnants of morning as they plunged deeper into the Fold. The skiffs next to them were already disappearing from view, and she had to squint as her own hands became harder to see. Soon enough, they were completely blind.

**

She didn’t know if it had been ten or twenty minutes, maybe even half an hour into the trip, when she heard a flap. Soldiers shifted as they loaded their rifles and bows. She reached for her revolvers. There was the soft sound of flint being struck and a whispered command, and the Fold was set ablaze.

Inferni flame burst from all three skiffs, making Byleth’s eyes water as she had to adjust. In a split second of quiet she saw the volcra. There had to be over a hundred circling them, their leathery wings and razor-sharp claws and teeth just as she remembered. There were so many more than she’d ever thought though. She’d read once that the Fold had been the Tula Valley, and she wondered if these were the twisted remains of its residents. However, she didn’t have time to recall anything else.

The volcra swooped down, arrows flew and gun shots rang in the air, but few fell. Byleth got a few shots out, one volcra falling to the sand and another falling to the deck. She spotted Claude wrestling with another, his dagger plunging into its chest. Grabbing the dagger, he kicked it off him, sending its body careening for the rails where another monster attempted to take its own prey. Half the soldiers at the rails had moved, fighting to defend the squallers who continued to push the skiffs forward. Another circle formed around Edelgard, and Byleth spotted a few creatures drop as she and the dark-haired boy beside her slashed their arms through the air. The boy turned his back to her, and Byleth saw her falter as a volcra skittered across the deck toward her and sank its jaws into the person next to her.

As it dragged the body away, another aimed for the younger girl. Byleth dove in front of her without thinking, and she managed to squeeze a shot out. The volcra dropped with a _thud_ , dark blood dripping from the bullet wound between its eyes. Edelgard thanked her, and Byleth was about to respond when she was knocked down to the deck.  
Her vision swam and she screamed as claws dug into her skin, blood already soaking through her coat. One revolver had been knocked out of her hand and it lay a few feet away. Her other revolver and arm were pinned down. Byleth tried to push it off, and she had a split second, before the volcra opened its jaws and she was met with rows of onyx teeth. It hardly budged, and she could feel her head getting lighter.

“Byleth!”

The Volcra shrieked, a bullet embedding itself in its side. Her father ran up to her, taking her into his arms. She could hear him muttering about finding a healer, and she pushed herself up as best she could. Her shoulders ached, deep slashes a reminder from the body that lay a few feet away. As her father scanned her for more injuries, she saw it shift. Byleth screamed.

It plunged at him, claws digging into his arms as it tried to lift him off the deck. Byleth aimed for it, but she was still dizzy. It grazed its shoulder and she cursed, trying again. The bullet struck one of its wings, and it dropped her father. She aimed for it a third time, but her revolver only clicked. She swore and as she tried to reload, the volcra darted toward her.

She felt a blast of wind, and she dropped next to her father. The volcra was thrown back, its body hitting the rail with a resounding _crack_. She looked up in the direction of the gust, finding Dimitri, his coat torn and clothes splattered with black and red blood. She didn’t know if he could hear her thanks over the chaos.

She looked back at her father. Blood seeped from his right arm, a small puddle beginning to form. Byleth fought the tears pricking her eyes. He hadn’t been taken and his arm was still there at least, but he was fighting to keep his eyes open. She yelled, trying to keep him awake, trying to call a healer. Her own wound was just a dull throb now.

He took his hand in hers, “You got this, kid…”

“Dad, don’t you fucking dare! Dad!”

She felt that familiar soft hum of power from him, flickering like the candle once again. Its glow was diminished, but there none the less. Byleth continued screaming for a healer. He wasn’t dying, he couldn’t die. He had a pretty bad wound, but nothing that a healer couldn’t fix. He could have a concussion to, but she just needed him to keep his eyes open.

A dark flash flew across her peripheral vision. She couldn’t have this now, not now while her father was in this state. She braced herself as another pair of claws dug into her back. She felt saliva drip from the volcra’s mouth and onto her neck, and with what little strength she had left, she pushed.

It hardly budged, but Byleth felt a rush of energy. Unlike the whisper she’d felt holding her father’s hand, a torrent of power burst from herself. The volcra flew off her with a ear piercing shriek as golden light shattered the darkness. She dimly registered more of the monsters shrieking and a few soldiers cheering as others stood silent.

Byleth briefly remarked to herself that it looked like noon, before her world went dark once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell yeah, I got a chapter out and before class starts up again! I've made it my resolution this year to actually finish a big multi-chapter fic, and I have the whole thing outlined, so hopefully I stick to that. Anyway, kudos and comments are very much welcome!


	3. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's finally a date for the release for the _Shadow and Bone_ adaption and they've been releasing teaser photos, and even though I'm in the midst of midterms, I'm so pumped that I just wanna keep writing this AU!!!!!
> 
> Anyway, hope you like this.

Byleth’s vision swam as black wisps gave way to blue. She turned her head to the side. It was all too bright, but she didn’t want to close her eyes again. She didn’t know what she would wake up to next if she did.

Staring at the deck, the grain of the wood and bits of blood clear as day, Byleth shot up. She nearly vomited, but through her dizziness, she knew there was no mistaking her surroundings. How had they left the Fold? Had they gone back to Novokribirsk or were they docking in East Ravka?

“She’s up!” she heard someone call.

A hand reached out to help her up, and without thinking, she took it. A rush of power slammed itself against her, pounding like wind against a house in a STORM. Byleth gasped and wrenched her hand away, losing her balance and falling back on the deck with a soft _thud_.

She looked up to see Dimitri. She couldn’t tell if it was concern or confusion written on his face, but she spoke up before he could ask any questions.

“Where’s my father?”

Second and First Army soldiers bustled around them, grisha in red and grey rushing to the wounded as people filtered off the skiff. Her father had nearly had his arm torn out by a volcrA, that same volcrA THROWING him onto the deck like a doll afterward. Where were the healers attending to him?

Dimitri nodded to a figure sitting several feet away, a healer looking over his wounds. Byleth glanced around. She’d remembered collapsing over there with her father, but now she sat on the opposite side of the skiff. Aside from Dimitri, a few more grisha stood around her in black in red. If the soldier in grey and red had been a healer, then Byleth assumed, that like Edelgard and the dark-haired boy she’d seen earlier, these grisha were heartrenders. What in the world were heartrenders doing watching her like this?

“We should get you to a healer as well,” Dimitri said, extending his hand to her again.

“Uh uh,” a woman’s voice tutted to her, “Careful, child. We wouldn’t want you revealing too much before we get a chance to piece things together.”

Byleth’s eyes darted around trying to find the second voice. Soldiers stood around her, their gazes refusing to meet her own. Dimitri’s brows knitted together as he turned to call for a healer. Byleth scanned the skiff, but the few people left on deck were too far to have whispered to her. She got to her feet before anyone could try helping her again. She didn’t feel like dealing with Dimitri’s questions when she had too many of her own.

Byleth made her way to the dock, the heartrenders and lone squaller boy trailing her. In her daze, she hadn’t realized that her father had already been escorted out. She’d have to find him at the healers’ tent or something, but she had no idea how large and crowded the military camp could be.

Before she could ask, a man in a First Army uniform came bounding up to her. She noticed his oddly shaped moustache, and despite the throbbing in her back and her dizziness, Byleth fought to hold a snort back. No use pissing off the Ravkans when she still didn’t know what was going on.

He smiled and his voice boomed. So much for her headache.

“You must be Byleth! Her highness already spoke to me about you and I saw your father just now! I never thought I’d see Jeralt again, and meet his child no less, in a situation like this of all things!”

“Again?” the voice from earlier muttered just as Byleth thought to herself.

“I’m Alois! I used to fight alongside your old man! But come, we can talk about this once we get you to a healer and find somewhere more comfortable to discuss the journey!”

Byleth could only raise her eyebrows as she followed him into camp. It seemed she had a whole new slew of questions to add to her list, but she settled for the easiest at the moment.

“Where are we?”

Dimitri stepped up next to her, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looked at her, “We’re in Kribirsk. You got us to East Ravka.”

Byleth remembered the flash of light that had appeared before she’d gone unconscious. She stared down at her hands. Her power had finally decided to make an appearance and she had no idea how or why. She’d barely been able to summon so much as a spec since she was ten, but it had been as bright as midday on the skiff. And the whole army had seen her and were probably whispering about it now.

She glanced at her hand next to Dimitri’s. When she touched her father, his power had always been a soft hum. Was it just him? Or had she finally torn down some barricade?

The mysterious voice piped up again, “Will you stop staring at the boy? You won’t find any answers with him!”

Byleth searched for the woman, but everyone around her looked forward, silent save for Alois greeting soldiers in camp as they passed. This woman was practically screaming at her; how had no one heard?

The woman huffed, “I will explain all soon, so just pay attention to where you are now. I don’t want you risking either of us with distraction.”

For a disembodied voice she was awfully demanding.

Byleth heard another indignant huff, but the woman didn’t speak up again. They arrived in front of a tent four times the size of the church back in Novokribirsk. At its top, three flags in the grisha colours waved IN THE BREEZE. Two more heartrenders stood at its entrance, and several other soldiers, both First and Second army lingered outside. A few that she recognized from the skiff stared at her openly, while others turned away as she returned their gaze.

In her plain clothes, now torn and bloody, she must’ve been quite the sight. This small girl with her mess of dark teal hair, hollow cheeks and eyebags that made her eyes stand out like some strange neglected doll in a Ketterdam canal, was marching in the ranks of Ravka’s elite. Byleth had never been one to worry about her appearance, but now surrounded by the Second Army grisha, she knew in a quick once over that anyone could pick out the girl who had only just been able to summon. Grisha who knew their power looked much healthier; she’d learned just as much from observing her father and the other mercenaries as a child.

Entering the tent, Byleth picked out bits of conversation as they made their way through. A girl with pink hair tied in pigtails and her white-haired companion sat on cushions, the former gasping and turning to her friend. The latter raised an eyebrow as Byleth heard the other girl mutter something about miracles. A tall stoic boy nodded to Dimitri as they passed, his gaze landing on Byleth for a split second. A girl with her pale blonde hair tied to the side smiled, turning to him to ask something about saints. At the front of the tent sat a table surrounded by chairs on a dais, a buzzing crowd waiting at its steps. Byleth picked at the remnants of her coat sleeves as they drew closer.

“Aren’t you popular?’” Claude sang as he strolled up beside them.

“Well,” Edelgard said as she emerged from behind one of the tent’s partitions, “soon enough all of Ravka might know her name.”

The voice hummed. Byleth had never had high expectations set for her; surviving was all she and her father ever needed.

Alois waved her into the room where Edelgard had emerged. He left, taking the other grisha with him as one of the girl’s from earlier entered. Introducing herself as Mercedes, she led Byleth to a chair to look over her wounds. The girl hummed as she drew Byleth’s blood-soaked clothes up. She hissed as she felt the sting of alcohol cleaning the gashes. Soon it was replaced with an itch as the healer began her work.

“Sorry about that,” Mercedes giggled, “Looks like the volcra put up a pretty good fight. Thank the saints for your power. It sounds like you were blessed by Saint Sothis herself.”

“And I myself am not sure how,” the disembodied voice returned with a sigh.

Byleth perked up. Was the voice in her head Saint Sothis? She’d never been religious, so she certainly never expected to meet the saints of all people when she died.

“You aren’t dead, you fool! If it weren’t for my power you certainly would be!”

Mercedes finished her work and left with a small bow, “I hope we’ll see each other in Os Alta. Everyone at the Little Palace will be so excited to meet you.”

Byleth could only nod and mutter a small “thanks” as the girl left. Travelling to the capital was the last thing on her list for the day. At least, it had been this morning.

“It certainly would help you learn. As is you’re about as reliable as damp firewood.”

Byleth huffed, “Saint Sothis right? Mind telling me a few things then?”

The saint snorted, “Just call me Sothis. No need for the titles, child, it seems we are one. Though, I’d prefer a much more grateful vassal.”

Byleth stared blankly at the tent’s fabric.

“But like I said, it seems we share power somehow. You do know what that entails, yes?”

She dug through her memories. A book one of their clients had given her as a child stuck out, its cover embossed with “The Lives of Saints” and its pages filled with images of Ravka’s holy figures gruesomely martyred or standing triumphant. Saint Sothis had been illustrated standing above an army, the Ravkan double eagle flag waving below, the sun rising behind her in a halo. She had united the people ages ago and helped establish the Ravkan kingdom, her light blinding enemies and cutting through their troops. With the Shadow Fold tearing the country in half, none prayed to her more than now however.

Byleth’s stomach churned. So, that’s what Mercedes meant by being blessed by the sun saint herself. But why had it taken so long for this so-called blessing to appear anyway?

Before she could launch into a flurry of questions for her new companion, the tent flap opened. Alois and the trio entered, followed by two more grisha, and finally her father. As she rushed over to him and the flap closed, she noticed heartrenders stationed outside and a crowd of onlookers fighting for a peak.

One of the new grisha, a woman dressed in blue and silver like Dimitri, spoke, “I’m Catherine and this is Shamir. We help lead the Etherealki and Corporalki.”

“Just got a few questions for you and your daughter, Captain,” Alois added.

Byleth turned to her father, “Captain?”

“What? Jeralt’s never told you? He was one of the best Etherealki in the army! Best inferni I’ve ever met!”

Etherealki? Jeralt Eisner in the Second Army? A captain?

Her father sighed, “That’s the order of summoners, kid. Looks like there’s a lot I’ve gotta explain.”

Shamir cleared her throat, “Why don’t we start with what happened on the skiff? We’ve already heard it from these three, but we wanna hear your explanation. It’s not everyday that someone splits open the Fold like the sun.”

**

About half an hour of explaining the trip and a good chunk of their lives later, Byleth and her father sat silently as the room’s occupants stared at them dumbfounded. A former Etherealki captain disappearing nearly twenty years prior had returned, and unbeknownst to the country, had been raising the only other sun summoner known in history. He’d conveniently left out the failed trip on the Fold from when she was ten, but what good would it be to tell them Byleth had just barely realized her power back then?

“Well, you have to return to the capital with us,” Catherine spoke up, “The general needs to see Byleth’s power herself and she’ll be safer in Os Alta.”

Jeralt whipped out a flask and took a swig. _Saints, how’d he still have that thing?_ Byleth thought.

“We don’t have to come to Os Alta. I’m leaving that up to the kid.”

Edelgard shook her head furiously, “Do you have any idea what this means for Ravka? We _need_ someone like her!”

“Halt, EdelgarD. It’s her decision,” Dimitri interject and turned to Byleth, “But she has a point. Ravka could certainly use someone with your abilities… And there’s no doubt Fjerdan and Shiu spies have heard of you by now.”

“Whoa there you two. Wouldn’t wanna scare away our new friend and her shiny power,” Claude said.

Before the room could devolve into a fit against her father, Byleth put up a hand.

“I need a minute to talk to my dad.”

The grisha looked as if they were about to argue, but Alois, self-pronounced closest friend to the Eisners, ushered them out. Byleth watched as they left. Alois seemed to be making frantic gestures to try and convince Jeralt to convince her. Edelgard’s mouth was pressed into a firm line and Claude only shrugged, but as Dimitri turned away, he gave her one last pleading look over his shoulder. She stared at their backs a second longer and turned to her father.

“I wanna go to the Little Palace.”

Her father nearly spat out his drink mid swig, “What, kid?”

“You don’t have to come, but I’m going to Os Alta.”

“Kid, why?”

She mulled it over. She didn’t think it had to do with Dimitri’s look or Edelgard’s demands, but something in her conversations with Mercedes and Sothis stuck. Why did she have this power? And why hadn’t she been able to use it earlier? Surely, someone in the capital could teach her a thing or two. It’s not like they could just cross and go back to Novokribirsk. Byleth doubted she had it in her to summon like that again. At least, not yet.

Byleth shrugged, “You asked me before what Ravka’s ever done for us? Well, maybe I wanna see what it’ll do now. Can’t hurt to learn how to summon and have a nice place to stay while we’re at it.”

_Not to mention the whole list of things you still haven’t told me. If I’m getting answers, its there._

He grumbled, “Alright. But I’m telling you now, even if we’re not on the road anymore, don’t get too comfortable. Doesn’t matter if we’re in Kerch or Fjerda or the Shiu Han or whatever, grisha are grisha, and no one’s letting you forget that even here.”

Byleth hummed in acknowledgement and walked to the tent flap. When she opened it, she was met with Edelgard’s steely gaze a few feet away by the dais. The two boys flanked her, matching curious expressions as they waited for her answer.

“So, when are we leaving for Os Alta?”

A small smile crossed the girl’s face as she waved a few people over, “As soon as I get the guard up to speed. No use making Ravka wait for its new sun summoner any longer.”

Sothis cheered and Claude laughed. Byleth noticed Catherine and Alois let out sighs of relief as Shamir nodded and left to gather a few things at the table up front. Dimitri smiled at her, his soft eyes lighting up. She still had questions about him, about the raging torrent of power she’d felt earlier, but she could worry about that once they reached the Little Palace.

If Byleth was going to learn about being grisha, there was no better place to do it than the heart of the Second Army.


	4. Os Alta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's finally a full trailer for _Shadow and Bone_ , and hopefully when the show comes out more people will get into it so I can have someone to talk about it with lol. Honestly, this AU is my baby and I wanna get half of this out before the show drops in April. But knowing me I suck at balancing my writing with school. Anyway, hope you like this chapter!

Byleth had two new things to add to her ever-growing to-do list.

For one, she really needed to brush up on her knowledge of Ravka. Most of what she knew revolved around its Western half, not the one land locked by the Fold and two other countries. In fact, it was nearly a week into the trip when she’d realized just how much of the country sat trapped behind that divide.

Taking the back roads, so as not to draw attention, they rode through thick forests, ancient trees towering over them. Every so often she caught a peak of rolling valleys, a small village cropping up here and there, dilapidated farms and the occasional cow popping up. The one time they’d stopped in a village, people turned away as they passed. A few even scurried down the street. Were the grisha so caught up by the Fold and at the borders that they were rarely seen by regular townspeople? Surely, having a few healers and fabricators would be beneficial for everyday life. There was just something in that quiet that bothered Byleth.

Where West Ravka seemed to be teeming with new towns and visitors arriving at its coast everyday, East Ravka sat still, as if waiting for a strike.

“You know, I think I remember that valley being much bigger. And that road over there… Yes! I think that used to be a popular trade route. Shame, in this season it would’ve been full of merchants.”

Byleth sighed. She’d need to learn to tune out the saint in her head as well. Sothis wasn’t particularly loud, but then again, she’d never had experience with another tenant in her head. At least, she had a tour guide.

“Hello?”

“What, Sothis?” Byleth hissed as quietly as she could.

The saint huffed, “Pay more attention, child. It wasn’t me!”

Byleth glanced around and found Dimitri staring at her, a little crease forming between his brows. Had he asked her something earlier? Did he think she was ignoring him? Byleth made a mental note to not space out again. The trip to Os Alta would be like any other mission, just that she had more people to factor in than their mercenaries and a few bandits.

“Are you alright?”

She readjusted herself in the saddle and sat up, giving Dimitri a quick glance before turning back to the road ahead. Her horse’s ears twitched and she held herself from fidgeting with the reigns like she had earlier. Saints, when were they getting to the capital?

“Just tired.”

Byleth glanced back at him, noticing the crease that still lingered. What was he so concerned about? They’d only just met. Maybe, it had to do with her power? Edelgard had mentioned that Ravka needed her Afterall, and barely surviving the Fold had certainly proved that. But how far did that need go?

Before they’d left camp, the main grisha tent had been buzzing with rumours of the new sun summoner, bits of gossip trickling out into the rest of Kribirsk. By the time they’d gathered all their goods and hopped onto their horses, the steady drip had turned into a stream. If the dam holding back the news hadn’t already broken, her arrival in the capital would make it.

It wouldn’t be just the mercenaries anymore; they had split off to do as they wished. It wouldn’t be just her and her father by the fire either. As much as she liked to tell herself that she could’ve chosen to leave and start lessons with him, she knew the Second Army wouldn’t have let them slip away so easily. Soon enough, an entire palace- an entire country- of people would be watching her for progress. Byleth took a slow breath, making sure her face looked as bored as possible. They didn’t need to see anything else while they watched her; she wouldn’t let them.

“I don’t think anyone’s said it yet, but thank you for what you did back there on the Fold. I doubt we would’ve made it without you,” Dimitri said, his blue eyes fixed on her own.

Byleth shrugged, “We got lucky. I should honestly be thanking you for killing that volcra.”

He shook his head, “None the less, you’ve dropped everything to come to Os Alta. I can’t begin to tell you what that means. I know Edelgard and the others may have pushed a bit, but they mean well.”

“I also remember you mentioning something about spies,” Byleth said, quirking an eyebrow, “I could just be tagging along to hide from assassins and get a comfortable room.”

“That I did. Sorry about that.”

She shrugged, “It’s fine. Mercenary remember? Not like I haven’t had people try to kill me before.”

“Ah, but have you had anyone try to specifically kill _you_ before?”

Byleth raised a brow, “Have _you_?”

“Don’t mind me. It seems I’m not very good in the art of joke telling,” Dimitri laughed, his eyes shifting away from her.

Byleth caught a brief glimpse of that same icy gaze she’d seen in their first meeting. It had been something about the conscription age in Ravka from what she remembered. Byleth wondered if that had anything to do with this new talk of assassins. She filed it away with what she’d learned about his power on the skiff. Even if she was going to be watched in Os Alta, it couldn’t hurt for her to watch anyone else. 

Yet, as the silence stretched out between them and he returned to staring forward, Byleth felt a twinge of guilt for her wariness. At least toward him. He did seem genuinely concerned earlier, and hadn’t he been the only one to thank her. Even if what she’d done had been sheer dumb luck? 

“Forgive my earlier remark,” he spoke up again, “but I know all of this must be a lot to handle right now. This is your first time in Os Alta, I’d be happy to show you around. If that’s alright with you of course.”

“No assassins?”

Dimitri blinked rapidly, a few seconds passing before a soft laugh came bubbling up past his lips. Byleth let the smallest smile slip past her mask. It wouldn’t hurt to be around him at the palace.

He nodded, “No assassins. I’ll help you rid of any, I promise.”

“Well, well, well,” Sothis chimed in, “Looks like the boy has taken quite a liking to you. Perhaps, you’ve found an ally.”

Sothis had been surprisingly quiet these last few minutes. She had a point though. At least, her father and the bored saint inside her head wouldn’t be the only people to talk to.

**

It was early the next morning when they’d left the forested roads for the main highway that connected all of Ravka. As the remaining stars disappeared, and the sky gave way to soft blue and lilac, her father rode closer to her. In the growing light she could see the small wrinkles on his face deepen as stone walls rose in the distance.

“Os Alta,” he muttered turning to her, “You sure about this kid?”

Byleth whispered, “As sure as I was about my power last week, but that is the whole reason I’m here.”

“Why _we’re_ here. You didn’t think I was going to leave you to them, did you?”

Byleth saw his shoulders tense as the city walls came into full view. Her father scrutinized the banners hanging from its parapets, bright blue emblazoned with the royal family’s double eagle. They shone against the dull grey of the stone, the heavy fabric whipping in the wind like a warning. Inside these walls was the heart of Ravka, beating a steady rhythm that kept the blood of the kingdom flowing. And she was throwing them straight into it, forcing her father into the system that kept the country alive, one that expected her to do the same now as well.

_What has Ravka ever done for us?_

What had he meant? If her father had been a part of the Second Army before, and a captain none the less, what had turned him away? 

“I didn’t think you would leave, but the beer fests and casinos in Ketterdam would’ve been easier,” she said, one brow raised.

A beat of silence passed, the frown on her father’s face unchanging. Byleth grew still. How deep did her father’s aversion to Os Alta go? What was she getting them into?

“Dad?”

He burst out laughing, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he turned to her.

“Trust me, kid, I won’t have a problem getting wasted here,” he said before lowering his voice again, “But just remember what I told you back in Kribirsk. Just come and find me whenever it gets to be too much, alright?”

_Grisha are grisha, and no one’s letting you forget that even here._

She nodded, readjusting her grip on her reigns and letting out the tiniest breath as they entered the gates. She was about to speak up again when another rider came up on her right.

Dimitri smiled, “welcome to the dream city.” 

“Dream city?”

He laughed, “That’s what a lot of Ravkans call it. I’m not quite sure if I agree with them yet.”

“Honestly, I think its just Ravka in a nutshell,” Claude piped up from Dimitri’s other side, “Well, if you could call the double walls a very hard nutshell.”

Buildings crowded around one another, small alleys barely visible from the main road. Merchants unloaded produce from their carts, setting up their stalls, as the smell of bread wafted from a bakery. People yelled greetings to one another and butchers’ knives thunked away down the street. A soft buzz hummed through the city as people prepared for the day, little clouds of dust being kicked up by hooves and feet, a few eyes turning to stare at their entourage as they passed. It was a welcome change from the countryside.

“Either way,” Edelgard said as she joined them, “We’ll be arriving at the palace soon.

The heart render looked forward, Byleth following her gaze to the road still ahead. Spanning a wide river, dotted with boats still docked at its edges, sat a bridge, its two halves lowered to meet in the middle. As they passed, the hum of the lower town faded, replaced by the birds chirping in the silence of the mansions sprawling out across the boulevard. At the top of a slight incline sat another wall, the same double eagle now wrought in gold on its gates.

As they entered, the only sounds were the steps of a few servants scurrying about and the crunch of gravel under their horses’ hooves. Well, that and Alois talking to her father a few feet away, but he was remarkably quiet compared to earlier on in the trip.

Sothis snorted, “That is loud, is it not?”

Thinking she meant Alois, Byleth turned away from the neatly manicured lawns and trees to the front of their group. Instead her eyes caught on a massive building, its white walls and hundreds of gilded windows shining in the early morning light. Leading up to its entrance were two sets of stairs curving around terraces topped by fountains whose water cascaded down into one large pool at the base. Once again, the golden double eagle greeted them, water gushing from its beaks as it spread its wings to take off from its marble perch. Byleth didn’t know where to look.

“Welcome to the Grand Palace,” Edelgard laughed, “It lives up to its name, don’t you think?”

Sothis let out another snort, “Such a creative name for such a creative place.”

All Byleth could do was nod. Who knew Ravkan royals had it in their coffers?

Edelgard dismounted, giving her a curt nod before she made her way to the marble steps, “I would love to show you the grounds another time, but I am needed elsewhere. I hope to see you soon.”

Byleth watched her speed up the stairs, servants rushing to fling open the palace doors as she marched inside. A small parade of soldiers followed her, some with their uniforms decorated by medals trailing her a few feet away in perfect formation, others like the dark-haired boy from the skiff following closely behind, looking over their shoulders every so often.

The saint spoke up again, “Huh, at least she’s direct, isn’t she?”

Byleth turned away from the palace, the glare from the gold all around it was starting to hurt her head. She found Dimitri next to her, still staring at its entrance, brows furrowed. She was about to ask him if he was alright when another voice boomed from down the path.

“Can’t waste anymore time,” Alois yelled as he led the group down a tunnel of trees away from the Grand Palace, “The general’s been waiting for you!”

Byleth started forward, noticing Dimitri shake himself out of his revery as he joined her.

“So, any thoughts on the city so far?”

She hummed, “It’s certainly someone’s dream… Can’t really say its mine though.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t think there’d be anything like that past the Fold. Personally, I’d much rather have an actual cake than a building decorated like one. While they’re at it, they might as well turn that into a chocolate fountain,” Byleth chuckled as she pointed back at the Grand Palace. She probably shouldn’t have been saying anything like that so close to the royal residence; she could probably be charged with treason. Yet, she felt some of her caution slip as she whispered to Dimitri.

He laughed, the sound of it tinkling in the breeze as they left the tunnel of trees, “It does take some getting used to. Take it from someone who’s only been here the last few years.”

Byleth cocked her head to the side. Only the last few years? Weren’t grisha trained here from childhood? Had Dimitri’s power just manifested late like her own?

“Ah forgive me, I shouldn’t start rambling,” he shook his head and nodded toward a spot downhill, “It looks like we’re here.”

A large building of dark wood and brick greeted them, a few golden domes reflecting the sun much like the lake that sat behind it. Byleth caught glimpses of colourful uniforms in its windows, streaming out of its doors, and running through the grounds as the morning began. Sliding off her horse, she followed the rest of the group through intricately carved doors into a waiting chamber, and then a much larger hexagonal hall. Her boots clacked on the bright stone floor, a soft sound in the din of cutlery clanking against plates, fires cracking away in the corners, and grisha spread about the room in their own little groups.

“This is the Little Palace, kid,” her father sighed as he strode up next to her.

“Again with the creative names,” Sothis said, “Though I can say I think I prefer it here over the grand one.”

Byleth stared at the ceiling, a skylight taking up the majority of it, the brilliant blue outside on full display for the dining hall. She shifted her gaze away, moving to find out where they would be directed next, or if they were to remain in the crowded hall. One set of doors sat at the opposite end, another two sat to her left and right. Byleth noticed Claude break off from the group, followed by the pink-haired girl from camp as he made his way to the doors on the left.

He turned to her, bringing his fingers up in a gesture that mimicked two little guns, “I’ll see you later, your saintliness. If you need me, I’m in the fabricator workshops.”

Byleth gave a little wave. Your saintliness? She’d need to talk to him about that nickname later.

Dimitri coughed, “I should leave you to your meeting with the general as well. I hope to see you soon, Byleth. Captain.”

He bowed to the two of them before running off, a group waving him over to their table. A red-headed boy turned to stare at her as Dimitri greeted them, the other boy next to him huffing while the girl on his left turned to stare as well. Byleth noticed that the latter two weren’t dressed in any colours of the Second Army, but rather the drab of the First. Apart from Alois, they seemed to be the only ones in the sea of blue, red, and purple.

“General Rhea will see you now,” Shamir said as she waved them to the set of doors on their right.

Her father grumbled, “Can’t wait to see her again.”

They moved into a hallway, the noise of the dining hall disappearing as the doors shut. They were ushered into a smaller and much darker room, no windows or skylights giving a glimpse to the world outside. In the lamp light, Byleth could make out a map of the country on the opposite wall, the gash that was the Shadow Fold tearing it in two, all the way from the Fjerdan border to the Shiu. A woman, who she assumed was the general, sat beneath it at the head of a long table. As she rose to greet them, Byleth was jolted by her mint eyes and startlingly young face. She knew grisha aged slower, but hadn’t she been here since her father had been apart of the Second Army?

“Her!” Sothis rang in Byleth’s head.

You know her? Byleth hissed inwardly at the saint.

“No,” the saint said, “But I’ve seen enough of your dreams to know how familiar she is. I just feel like we should know her.”

_Well, let’s find out then._

Byleth’s father nodded to the woman, “General.”

“Jeralt, it is nice to see you’ve returned. I ALSO SEE you’ve been blessed with the miracle of childbirth.”

Her voice was awfully serene for someone in charge of the army in such a war-torn country. It reminded Byleth more of a librarian or priest than the head of legions of magical soldiers. She took note of her uniform though, red with grey cuffs similar to Mercedes. She was a healer then.

“Ah yes,” Sothis chimed in as she took note of the uniform as well, “Who knew healers could rise so high up in the ranks. I’ve always thought Ravka more obsessed with warriors and what not, but perhaps she has more talents.”

“Yes, I wish we could’ve introduced you to her mother, but we lost her many years ago to illness,” her father replied.

“Oh? A shame. Were there no Corporalki to help?”

“Unfortunately, little could be done to save her.”

Byleth noticed her father’s fingers twitch at his side. He always did that when he tried not to clench his fists, and something told her that the general was the last person he’d want to show his anger to. Byleth shifted as a few more seconds of silence stretched out between all of them. She caught a tiny glint in the general’s eyes before she shattered the quiet.

“I am sorry for your loss,” she said and then turned to Byleth, “But if what I have been hearing is correct, there is still much to celebrate. Byleth, yes?”

She nodded, FEARING THAT THE QUESTIONS BOUNCING AROUND IN HER HEAD WOULD BURST PAST HER LIPS IF SHE SPOKE. She could still feel the tense air coming off her father in waves. She wasn’t about to escalate the situation and have her investigation cut off when they’d just barely arrived.

Rhea smiled, waving them to the table where another man sat, his mouth pressed in a firm line. Byleth and her father took the seats opposite him, watching as the general poured them tea. A clock ticked as the tea trickled into a cup, and Byleth tried to hold her foot from tapping as she scrutinized the languid flow of the liquid. She chewed the inside of her cheek, still struggling not to crack her mask of boredom, as the general set the teapot down and handed her a cup. She accepted it with a soft “thanks”, taking a tentative sip as to not burn her tongue.

” First, let me introduce you two to Seteth. He assists me with many matters of the Second Army.”

He had his hands clasped together before him as he spoke, “The general has told me much about you, Captain. And, of course, we have heard much of your abilities, Byleth. Apart from assisting General Rhea, I am also an Etherealki instructor, and will be here to lead your training once we’ve determined the truth of the claims.”

“So, shall we?” Rhea added, her mint eyes locking onto Byleth’s.

Byleth’s palms were sweating as she set the teacup down on its plate, the porcelain ringing through the room. She lifted a hand and tried to call the light. She felt nothing, save for a barrier. It was as if she were trying to trudge through a cloud of thick, humid mist. She didn’t know where to go and the air clung to her, refusing to let her pass.

_Sothis?_

“We may share a mind now, child, but it does not mean I have control of your body!”

Byleth spoke up, rushing to explain the lack of sunlight, “I only just learned about my power last week. It appeared when I was near death, too.”

To her surprise, Rhea and Seteth did not look disappointed or angered by the failed attempt to summon. Of course, with all the witnesses, it would’ve been hard to lie about a new sun summoner just to bring a fraud all the way to the Little Palace. Byleth continued chewing on the inside of her cheek though.

Her eyes unchanging and unreadable, Rhea held out a hand, “May I try something?”

Byleth put her hand in hers. She felt herself trudging through the barrier again, but felt a path clear as something sang deep within her. The barrier shifted, but the call continued to push through. She could feel it reverberating from Rhea’s end, and in a breath, Byleth felt the barrier break.

The room filled with a glimmering gold, much like the skiff had a week ago. Seteth breathed a sigh of relief, and Rhea’s eyes blazed as she took both of Byleth’s hands into her own. She looked almost reverent, or at least that’s what Byleth thought. The light was so bright that she had to squint. She wasn’t used to the glare either.

Her father remained quiet as the general set her hands down, the room fading back to lamp light while she spoke, “You can begin training tomorrow. Seteth will see to it that you have your schedule set up and someone to show you around the grounds. For now, you must rest. I believe the court will be expecting us later today.”

“The court? Already?”

“Of course,” Rhea said, “Her highness spoke to her father about it already I presume.”

“Oh my, they really aren’t giving us a break,” Sothis sighed.

Byleth wiped her palms on her pants and pushed her chair from the table. She’d just arrived and they were already going to parade her in front of the king and all his advisors? Would they be announcing her presence from the top of the city walls next?

“Yes, of course. I guess I’ll take my leave to rest then.”

Byleth made her way to the doors, looking over her shoulder to her father as she grabbed a handle.

“Go on, kid. I’m sure there’s someone waiting to lead you to your room. You’re old enough, you don’t need me to tuck you in. I’ve got a few more things to discuss.”

He wouldn’t say it, but Byleth could tell by the fist clenched under the table that he was dreading the conversation to come once she left. She looked between him and the door again, but he simply shifted his eyes to the door, urging her to get a move on. She stepped into the hall, waiting for the door to click shut before she let out a breath.

“Well, that’s that, your saintliness,” Sothis sang.

Byleth really needed to do something about that nickname before it caught on.


End file.
